


do your worst

by risquetendencies



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bottom Bokuto Koutarou, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Pining, Practice Sex With Feelings, The One Where It Was Never Just Practice, Top Kuroo Tetsurou
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 05:26:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30050574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/risquetendencies/pseuds/risquetendencies
Summary: “Are you still good with everything?”Indignation boils in Koutarou’s stomach. Why does Kuroo have to sound so freaking composed? You’d think they were meeting for a study session or trying some new street food place, not this. Not what they’re here to do. On his bed, in secret, in one of the rare moments none of his family is home.It’s just for practice, but only one of them believes that lie. For him, today means a bit more.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 12
Kudos: 135





	do your worst

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CMYKat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CMYKat/gifts).



Kuroo’s eyes look different when Koutarou sees them in the weird mix of light his darkened room and the one beam of sun breaking through the curtains create. Maybe he should have expected that, but he can’t get over how pretty they are. Subtle gold flecks in the irises stand out more and lend them warmth. Koutarou could stare at them for ages, mapping out their depths.

“Are you still good with everything?”

Indignation boils in Koutarou’s stomach. Why does Kuroo have to sound so freaking composed? You’d think they were meeting for a study session or trying some new street food place, not _this_. Not what they’re here to do. On his bed, in secret, in one of the rare moments none of his family is home.

It’s just for practice, but only one of them believes that lie. For him, today means a bit more.

Before he can blow it by saying that, Koutarou swallows his nerves.

“Yeah, totally!” he says, and the universe takes pity on him because his voice doesn’t crack. “Been looking forward to it all week!”

Dammit.

That’s too honest.

Koutarou’s fingers flex against his leg and subtly curl into a fist. It takes a few seconds, but he finally releases his tight grip when he hears the barky sound of Kuroo’s laugh. Just once, but that’s enough to shave off some of the apprehension.

“Me too,” Kuroo admits, and the audible sincerity stirs the butterflies in Koutarou’s stomach in unholy ways.

The bed groans softly as his friend edges closer and bumps their shoulders together. “Wouldn’t do it with anyone else, you know? I trust you, bro.”

“Same,” Koutarou echoes, but something in his heart feels itchy. The statement just doesn’t sit right. Stubbornly, he wants to hear more. “Um, I know we didn’t talk about it, but… are you… planning on like,” Koutarou trails off, pulse quickening. “Are you gonna use this experience? With someone?”

He’s not sure what he wants to hear.

**. . . . .**

All of this had stemmed from an idea proposed during movie night two weeks ago. 

They’d been watching an action flick containing more close combat and banter than elaborate weapons and save-the-world stakes. Koutarou still isn’t sure he understood the dialogue, but the movie had held his interest well enough until, suddenly, a new scene had captivated him.

Really, he should have known he was in trouble from the moment they picked the film out. The main actor was tall, dark-haired, and sexy in a roguish, charming way. He was crafty too, Koutarou had later found out, and cool. All signs pointed his mind and rapidly growing interest to Kuroo. 

Fascination hadn’t been the only thing growing when inevitably, the lead stripped down and had his way with the love interest. Koutarou guessed his gaze should have been elsewhere, but he’d felt transfixed by the heaving muscles of the actor’s back as he railed into her, and the sweat slowly trickling down toward his cut jawline. 

So, his brain had been foggy, and his dick dangerously awake when Kuroo had leaned back on the couch and sighed mournfully. 

“I want to know what sex is like, but if it’s not good, if _I’m_ not good, I think I’d die of embarrassment.”

At that point Koutarou had to scramble for a pillow to subtly cover himself.

Imagining your best friend fucking someone should be taboo, but it never had been for him. He just didn’t usually think about it when Kuroo was sitting less than a foot away. When Koutarou had to look at the tempting line of his throat when Kuroo tilted his head backward. He wanted to mark the skin with his teeth, see if it made Kuroo shudder. 

By some miracle, he’d warded off those thoughts enough to respond.

“You could practice with someone? People do that, I think,” Koutarou babbled. At the time, it’d seemed reasonable, even if all he was really thinking was: _I’d let you have me_.

Kuroo hadn’t laughed at him, though. He hadn’t even hesitated.

“What about us?”

Despite agreeing to the plan within the span of a few seconds, Kuroo’s question weighed on Koutarou’s mind through numerous sleepless nights afterward.

Was it so wrong to wish he meant ‘us’ differently?

**. . . . .**

Right off the bat, Koutarou doesn’t like the way Kuroo’s eyes widen, almost in alarm.

A stream of curses loop through his head, and he wonders if he’s being seen through. Is it obvious why he’s asking? Kuroo’s smart. Koutarou knows that well and loves it. Loves the random tangents Kuroo will go off on if prompted about a topic he enjoys, spewing mind-boggling facts with an ease that makes Koutarou feel he can understand stuff like antioxidants too.

But he can’t. All he knows they’re a good thing to have in the food he eats. Why? No clue. Kuroo surely knows, though, like Koutarou is sure he’s figuring out his motive now.

“No.” Kuroo pauses, and his expression settles back to neutral. “I didn’t think any farther than today. I just thought it’d feel good with you.”

Heat stirs low in Koutarou’s stomach. Excitement gives him a little jolt, and he shifts around where he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, facing inward. Closer, he wants to be so much closer. He’s going to prove Kuroo right, and then maybe he won’t ever need to go to someone else.

“It’s gonna,” Koutarou responds carelessly.

“Oh?”

Their knees knock this time, and suddenly, they’re facing each other, and the distance between their faces is half of what it was a second ago. Koutarou’s heart thuds loudly in his chest, and he stares across in a daze, anticipation growing at the fleeting gloss of Kuroo’s tongue over his bottom lip before it disappears. His own mouth feels dry, so he mimics the gesture.

Technically, this practice could be for kissing too, right? 

Koutarou has kissed girls because it felt like what he was supposed to do at the time. The girls were nice, initially. At least until he did something that made them think twice about a second date. Maybe not because of the kisses, because he has the same problem with friends. Akaashi’s been solid at his side for a while, and the team to an extent, but outside of them, people don’t stay. They don’t want to stay with him. Kuroo has stuck around, longer than most. Koutarou doesn’t think he’d dip for, of all reasons, a bad kissing experiment.

Even though Koutarou already has experience with this part, practice makes perfect, or whatever comes close. And he will take any convenient excuse to go for what he wants.

Possessed by a burst of stupid courage, Koutarou leans in and plants his lips on Kuroo’s. Adrenaline lets him power through the urge to moan in relief when he feels Kuroo kiss back, and his hand grips at the fabric of Koutarou’s shirt. Feeling surer, Koutarou grips at his clothes too, and tugs until they’re falling back on his bed, and Kuroo is warm and heavy draped over the top of him.

Their bodies slot into place, and Koutarou shivers at the splay of breath against his face when their mouths part. Kuroo’s eyes are liquid amber as they gaze at him, unfocused and a little dilated. At this distance, Koutarou can smell the cologne Kuroo has taken to wearing on non-match days when they meet up. Spice and something deep and dark he can’t identify, but every time he inhales it, a spark of arousal kindles within him. He doesn’t want to know the answer, but Koutarou can’t help but wonder if Kuroo wears it when they don’t meet up. If he puts it on for anyone else.

But he doesn’t want to know, doesn’t want to imagine, wants it to only be-

Lips graze against his. Stunned, Koutarou’s fall open, and before he can have any coherent thought, Kuroo’s tongue flicks at his bottom lip. Gentle and coaxing, like a test to see how he’ll react. 

Koutarou slides his hands down Kuroo’s sides until he can hook fingers in the belt loops at the back of his jeans. Target locked, Koutarou pulls Kuroo into him, hard, and savors the way he tastes. He gives freely so Kuroo can take, tongue slipping into Koutarou’s mouth hot and wet for a breathless minute that turns into several and his lips stinging from mischievous nips of Kuroo’s teeth.

Pleasure sweeps through Koutarou until he feels disoriented, not knowing what stimulation he’s hurting for the most. He’s more of a go with the flow type, but he’d had a plan coming into today, and it still seems like a winner.

When he tears himself away to speak, nerves rattle around inside his chest despite how well he’d thought through the idea.

“You should fuck me,” he says, offering up the words so quietly it’s a wonder Kuroo hears them.

Kuroo’s weight shifts, hands pressing deep grooves into the mattress on either side of Koutarou’s head. The expression he wears is mottled between surprise and, thankfully, interest. He stops to catch his breath before he answers, but what Koutarou can scout out already makes him want to melt into the floor from happiness because it’s not _weird_. He’s not even sure why he thought Kuroo might think it was, when they agreed to have practice sex. The whole idea implied they’d be touching, that maybe one of them might end up inside each other, as intimately close as it gets. 

Maybe Koutarou was worried his crush made it weird. But Kuroo doesn’t know about that, and he doesn’t think this is strange, so somehow, everything is working out in his favor.

Must be his lucky day.

“If you want me to,” Kuroo whispers, matching his volume. Koutarou immediately hates that, because a shiver licks up his spine at how Kuroo sounds at that level. He’s pissed, because there’s no way he can answer that question without revealing a little too much. And he can’t not answer him.

Throwing caution to the wind, Koutarou chooses honesty.

“I kinda do. Um,” he hesitates, a flush creeping up his neck and flooding his face with prickly warmth. “Earlier, I did some stuff. So I could be readier. If you wanted to when you came over-”

“Fuck,” Kuroo mutters, and the bluntness of it jolts Koutarou where he’s lying. But he doesn’t stray from his objective.

“If you wanna, we could… I could still show you how.” That time, Koutarou’s voice definitely stutters as the imagery catches up with him and he realizes it’s less of a fantasy when they’re here together now, about to do things just like that. “And then you’ll know how.”

He can’t think straight, can’t form proper sentences, but somehow, he doesn’t think Kuroo cares. At least not enough to grade him on word choice.

“Is that okay, though?” Kuroo worries. He crouches closer, resting their chests together. “Do you really want me to—like, the first time and all?”

Koutarou can’t take this anymore.

“Yes, please,” he groans in exasperation. “Don’t worry about it, dude, I want all of it.”

That seems pretty neutral, doesn’t it?

“It’s you, Kuroo. I want everything, because I like you!”

Oh. That isn’t, though.

Koutarou’s nerves soar back to life. He clenches his eyes shut. In an instant, their closeness morphs into a weight keeping him stuck in a conversation he didn’t intend to have. He’s not sure when or if he was ever planning to confess, but today isn’t it. At least if he’d waited, he could have had one shot at sleeping with the guy he’s into before everything falls apart. 

Stomach twisting into knots, Koutarou freezes, but forces himself to lie there. So often, he reacts too fast for even his brain to catch up. Shoving Kuroo off and running away might not be his best option.

“Hey.” Kuroo’s voice is less quiet, but for some reason, sounds tremulous. “Bo. Can you give me a little more detail than that? Kinda don’t want to misunderstand you.”

When Koutarou clams up and doesn’t answer, he adds, “Please. I’m listening.”

“You’re just gonna laugh at me!” 

Fingers card through Koutarou’s hair, sweeping back some of the strands on the top until they lay flatter. He holds his breath as the caress continues for a few grounding seconds. A lump builds in Koutarou’s throat as he feels Kuroo’s fingers work through his hair softly, as if he’s something precious to him. Someone he wants to soothe. But that isn’t true. He knows it’s not, because if their connection meant more to Kuroo, today’s meetup would never have been practice. 

Right now, like always, Kuroo is being kind. Just not the brand of kind where he’s being a smartass and calling that compassion.

Emotion swells in Koutarou’s chest. Frustration or the urge to cry; he’s not sure what’s winning out. Maybe a little of both, because he feels so helpless. Stupid blurting out his feelings on the fly like he did, knowing there’s no chance of it being requited. They’re friends, so there’s a level of trust, and maybe Kuroo doesn’t think he’s ugly. That’s why he agreed to the plan.

Koutarou sniffles.

“Stop it,” he says.

Both. Maybe it’s both the crying and the frustration. A sloppy mix of feelings suits him well. People always say he’s a train wreck at school or on the volleyball court; why not here too?

“Okay,” Kuroo replies.

Shock slashes through his pity party. Okay, what?

The fingers in Koutarou’s hair retract, pulling away. Beneath them, the bed creaks as Kuroo’s weight shifts, and in dawning horror, Koutarou tries to piece together what’s happening. Is he leaving? Fear and a strange urgency rise to the surface. He opens his eyes.

Kuroo bends to kiss him.

Koutarou’s gasp is muffled by firm lips and his internal crisis paused by the fervor with which Kuroo descends upon him, kissing with bruising force and then sucking on Koutarou’s already overwrought lower lip. A confused moan slips out, and Kuroo’s tongue darts in, sliding over his and tasting him deep.

Somehow in the chaos, Koutarou’s brain clicks on. He grips Kuroo’s shoulder with one hand and smooths through his dark, wild hair with the other. The gentleness seems to break the spell. They pull away from each other, breathing heavier than before.

“Have I got your attention now?”

Koutarou nods dumbly, and in return, gets an all-too-fond smile.

“Good. Because I really care about you, Kou,” Kuroo pauses, as if the name is as much a surprise to him as hearing it feels to Koutarou. “Can this be a thing? You and me? A boyfriend thing?”

“Oh? Yeah!” 

Kuroo snickers at him. “Sound real sure there, buddy.”

The snarky edge in his tone is all it takes to throw Koutarou out of his daze. 

“Shouldn’t you be calling me baby or something, then, Tetsu?” he teases, arching a brow.

“Good point, sweetheart.”

Koutarou wrinkles his nose. “For me? That’s kinda cute.”

“Yeah, you’re cute, though,” Kuroo answers, punctuating the gesture with a kiss to the tip of his nose. All too easily, he lowers himself to Koutarou’s neck and mouths just beneath his jawline. “Incredibly sexy, too.”

Slowly, Kuroo’s hips grind down into his, and he remembers why they’re there again. Heat trickles back in, and Koutarou clings a little tighter to the shoulder he’s gripping.

The big discussion they need to have can be tabled for now. 

**. . . . .**

“You do it like this,” Koutarou says breathily.

Crooking his finger, he presses past the tight rim of muscle and sinks in deeper. He’s barely started, but already he feels a spark of pleasure. A faint ember that heats up whenever his eyes meet Kuroo’s watchful ones. Since he took his clothes off, Kuroo hasn’t stopped looking at him. 

It makes him bolder.

Steeling himself, Koutarou speeds up, thrusting his finger the way he likes when he’s starting. Quick, without stopping if he can help it. Building up the tension in his groin until he’s almost about to burst. Almost.

A gasp shoots from his lips. Koutarou bites down on his lower lip, adding in another finger.

He doesn’t need to do it, not after earlier, when he opened himself up until he was aching for Kuroo to show up and finish the job. This is all for show. And maybe preparation for the future in which Koutarou hopes Kuroo being inside him will be common to the point where the sensation imprints onto his nerves.

“How—” 

Kuroo rests back on his knees, hands resting on top of his thighs studiously. Before, he seemed transfixed, but now there’s an air of shyness.

“How do I know when you’re good for me to do more? Sorry. I’ve never tried this myself.”

There’s a thought Koutarou wouldn’t mind turning into reality one day. As much as he’s dying to be filled, his curiosity doesn’t stop there. Imagining Kuroo splayed out beneath him, red-faced and head thrown back motivates him like nothing really has before. 

“Ask. But also, it’ll kinda… you’ll feel me soften up, and it’ll be easier to move.” Koutarou has to slow the rhythm of his hand to explain. Relief courses through his lungs as he’s able to get enough air to replace what he’s breathing out.

Distracted, he brushes a sensitive area, and a shiver ricochets down his spine. Weakly, Koutarou whines and arches his hips. Without thinking about it, he grazes the same area and feels the tingles begin anew. Heat flushes his face, painting it pink all across his cheekbones. 

There’s a rustle in the periphery, and then a warm hand closes over the one striving between his legs. Koutarou jolts, blinking up at an equally red-faced Kuroo, who’s now much closer to him.

“Can I touch you?”

“Yeah, please.”

There’s a brief scramble as Koutarou pulls out and Kuroo moves closer, and Koutarou is no longer sure where to put his hands or how he should feel about Kuroo staring when his body’s laid out for him so obscenely. 

If he looks down his body, Koutarou can see his abs tensing with each heavy breath, and his cock standing up, the head of it shiny and slick. Judging by the prominent line of Kuroo’s cock in his briefs, he’s feeling desperate too. Koutarou hopes it’s not going to be much longer, because he’s not confident that he can hold back once Kuroo’s inside him, even this way.

A finger trails down to his hole and rubs along the rim. Koutarou bites his lip again, basking in the shiver that jolts through him. Tentatively, Kuroo slips the tip in, and just as soon, a muttered curse echoes between them.

“You’re so warm,” Kuroo murmurs, and the slide of his finger moving deeper keeps Koutarou from responding. “Wow, I can already-”

Breaking past the whine in his throat, Koutarou says, “Told you. I did some stuff… ah, earlier.”

“That’s so sexy, Kou, god…”

“Yeah, yeah,” he gasps as the finger in his ass becomes two, and Kuroo starts thrusting them. Slow, curious presses that graze every surface of him, making him increasingly slick with lube and needy. Koutarou bucks into his touch, teeth sinking back into the softness of his lip hard enough to draw the blood there. 

His mind starts to fog, and when he stares up again, Kuroo’s eyes display that he’s not much better off. They’re glazed over, the amber hue somehow darker at this distance. His breath emits in soundless sighs, and all of his focus seems to be on the place where they’re connected. 

If Koutarou lets him continue, he knows they can both get lost in this moment. Lost in the simple art of feeling each other and the novelty of those sensations. But he wants _more_ , and to get it, he’s going to have to speak.

“Please,” Koutarou half-moans, hoping he’s making sense somewhere in Kuroo’s mind. “Tetsu, please.”

“Oh shit, you’re ready?”

“Gonna come if you don’t stop,” Koutarou admits, sucking in a full breath for the first time in minutes.

Almost reluctantly, Kuroo pulls out his fingers. But then, leaning down, he pecks a quick kiss to Koutarou’s lips. “You good?” Kuroo double-checks, watching him closely.

“More than good,” Koutarou answers. “You good?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Frowning, Kuroo shakes his head at the repetition. Koutarou knows he hates feeling ineloquent, but he isn’t about to complain. Whatever gets them closer to what he’s been waiting for all day is fine by him. “Here, um, lift your hips.”

Kuroo slides a pillow beneath his lower back and then settles back between Koutarou’s thighs. Leaning over him, they glance at each other, and suddenly, the nervous note in Kuroo’s voice makes sense. They’re about to have sex. Better yet, they both know it’s not for practice.

Koutarou’s heart pounds faster.

They’re together, and he no longer has to hide a single thing he’s feeling.

Curling his legs, he wraps them around Kuroo’s midsection and tries to urge him even closer. Koutarou’s hand reaches up to do the same until he’s able to press a kiss to Kuroo’s lips. He doesn't bother closing his eyes, happily watching the pleased flutter of Kuroo’s eyelashes as they meet.

“C’mon, I want it,” he pleads when they separate. Koutarou bites back a shiver at the warm puff of breath against his lips and adds, “Wanna feel you, Tetsu.”

Kuroo’s eyes crease shut and he lets out a low groan. “You can’t just say it like that.”

A laugh bubbles up from deep in Koutarou’s throat. His lips curl into a grin.

“Okay. Wanna fuck?”

The resulting, louder groan from Kuroo makes his lips stretch wider, pleased at the smile he can see his new boyfriend fighting. Giving up after a brief interlude, Kuroo grins too. His thumb traces along Koutarou’s jaw, devotedly following the sharp angles of it from point to point. 

“Sure, let’s test it out.”

“Do it then!”

Kuroo laughs. “I will if you let me get my shorts off, Kou! What are you, a koala, clinging to me like that?”

But nothing in the way he gently unhooks their legs or slips out of his remaining clothes makes Koutarou think he’s offended. If anything, the pace Kuroo sets suffuses him with warmth, knowing he’s not in a hurry. And maybe this won’t last more than a few minutes — they’re not that good yet — but Kuroo wants to savor it. They both do.

Koutarou’s eyes follow the loose strokes of Kuroo’s hand as he slicks his cock up, and he feels his mouth water at the sight.

Later.

There’s always later, and more things for them to practice.

When he feels the first hint of pressure against his rim, Koutarou bites back a whine. He doesn’t speak, because there’s nothing more he wants than this. The solidity of Kuroo’s body weighing him down and the stretch as he sinks deeper, cock gapping Koutarou open with one tightly-controlled thrust. Pleasure builds in him, and he arches up, meeting the next thrust before Kuroo can bottom out. When they collide, he hears a throaty moan escape and answers it with a whimper of his own.

Sweat trickles down Koutarou’s brows as their bodies grind into each other, some catching on his tongue and imbuing him with the taste of salt. He circles Kuroo’s waist with his legs again, locking them in place as he stares up, matching their eyes. 

Comparing how simple getting together was to how long he’s wanted this seems lopsided. A simple slip of his tongue was the catalyst. Koutarou talks faster than he can think, so that could have happened any old day. Maybe it’s coincidence that the stars aligned for him to blurt out a confession today, but either way, he doesn’t care. 

Koutarou’s hand digs into the meat of Kuroo’s shoulder, nails bluntly indenting skin as the thrusts speed up. Above him, he hears a hiss and sees Kuroo’s eyes pinch closed. He’s shuddering slightly, chest heaving with ragged breaths. The muscles of his arms are strained taut as he props himself up over Koutarou.

“Fuck, I’m—”

A rush of excitement floods Koutarou’s veins, prickly and arousing as he takes in Kuroo’s disheveled state. His face is flushed, and equally shiny with sweat, but the way he stares down at Koutarou is what really does him in. Kuroo looks at him like Koutarou is the horizon he’s desperate to reach before he collapses.

Koutarou wants to meet him there.

“C’mon, baby, faster,” he encourages, voice rough and eager. “Gonna come with you.”

Reaching between their striving bodies, he wraps a hand around his cock. Moaning at the pressure, Koutarou starts to stroke his shaft, locking his fingers and tugging upward. When he reaches the head of his cock he thumbs over the slit, gathering precum and spreading it around to make himself wetter. Kuroo snaps from his daze as he watches Koutarou jerk himself off, pulling out halfway before fucking back in with all of his remaining strength.

Koutarou’s voice snags on a moan, rhythm faltering as sensation makes his stomach tense and his legs clamp vise tight around Kuroo’s body, trying to hold his cock deep inside — hard, pulsing, and so perfectly filling him. 

But his strength is flagging and he can’t prevent Kuroo from digging his hands into the mattress for leverage and slamming into him once more. 

The thick head of Kuroo’s cock grazes his prostate and before he can form a real sound, Koutarou’s voice breaks. His hand strokes faster until he’s trembling in release, white jets spurting over his abdomen and chest as pleasure rolls through him in waves. He feels himself tightening up, hears Kuroo swear, and then feels the thrusts slow until warm, wet heat spills out inside him. 

Kuroo finally collapses on his chest, mouth slack as he tries to pant through the aftermath of his exertion. They’re both left breathless, curled together in a tangle of limbs that Koutarou has no intention of leaving. Sometime, but nowhere near soon.

There are a thousand things that would probably be good to say right now. Smart things and sentimental things Koutarou knows Kuroo would love to hear, that’d make him teary-eyed and stupid as he trips over himself trying to take in the kind words. He’s so bad with compliments. 

It’ll be interesting seeing how Kuroo does with other stuff now that they’re together. Is real flirting off limits? Because it’s always felt like they flirted anyway, back when Koutarou thought it was just him who meant it. He wonders if that was ever really true - the thought brings a cheerful grin to the surface despite how exhausted he feels.

For now though, and for once, Koutarou thinks he knows exactly the best thing to say.

Raising an arm, he makes a fists and holds it up, eyes glinting gold in the muted light of his bedroom. It takes Kuroo a long second, blinking at Koutarou in confusion, to work out the gesture. But then a smile spreads across his lips, and Koutarou feels his heart flutter, because he’s glad they understand each other like this. He’s never wanted anyone else to know him like this, either.

Their fists bump together and when Kuroo sinks back down against Koutarou’s neck, he hears a little laugh accompanying Kuroo’s next words.

“Good game.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Kat for giving me this charming request to work on. I've missed BoKuroo greatly, it's been too long since I wrote a fic just for them, and this prompt was so sweet to make a reality. Really hope you like the finished product! 💖
> 
> For context, this was based off a tweet from Kat which you can find [here](https://twitter.com/CMYKenma/status/1360668133900525568?s=20). It's so characteristic of Bokuto and Kuroo I cry. 😎😭


End file.
